Worth the Wait
by ForForever19
Summary: 'Rachel Berry has a wedding dress in the back of her closet.' College AU. Faberry.


**Disclaimer**: I, by no means, claim to own anything remotely related to the Glee Universe. No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

**Worth the Wait**

* * *

Rachel Berry has a wedding dress in the back of her closet.

It's hidden behind many other dresses, an unfortunate pantsuit and several skirts, but it hangs there, in a garment bag, and Sasha Parker is too intrigued not to ask about it. She's always been curious about her college roommate, who is as careful and logical about the parts of her that she shares as any other person Sasha has ever met.

Their time together in New York has been interesting, to say the least. From their initial correspondence, Rachel seemed to be entirely too extra about everything, but that was not the person Sasha eventually encountered when they finally met in the Fall of their freshman year, walking into a room and expecting to be bombarded with _Rachel Berry_, but getting a muted, subdued version instead.

Now, during the Winter Break of their sophomore year, Sasha is no closer to figuring out her mysterious roommate, even though she's literally standing in the girl's childhood bedroom.

She can't even be sure how it is she ended up here. One day, she just mentioned it was unlikely she would be returning to her own home for the holidays, and now she's standing in a house in Lima, Ohio.

Looking into Rachel's closet and seeing an actual bona fide wedding dress.

"You have a wedding dress," Sasha says, almost blurting it out. It's just so unexpected, and she really doesn't know what to make of it.

Rachel looks up from where she's applying her makeup. "I do," she says, her voice steady. Even. It can be terrifying at times.

"Is it actually yours?" Sasha asks.

"It is."

Sasha lets out a breath. "Is it like one of those things that girls do where they see the perfect dress and just _have_ to buy it, even if there's no upcoming wedding?" She tries to inject some teasing into her voice, but it's rather flat.

"No," Rachel says, her gaze dropping.

Sasha almost groans. It's like trying to get water from a rock. "Can I see it?" she asks, sensing that Rachel probably won't share until she's good and ready. If she even will.

Rachel audibly swallows. "Uh, sure," she says, and then returns her attention to her makeup.

Sasha watches her for a beat, and then turns and reaches for the garment bag. She's not really sure what to expect when she finally reveals it, but her eyes bulge when they take it in once she's unzipped the bag.

The style, itself, is simple and quite nice, but there's a part near the top that's torn, and the bottom in filthy. It's got dirt and mud marring the white fabric, and -

And -

Is that blood?

Sasha almost drops it in surprise.

What the -

"People usually talk about their wedding days as if they're the best days in their lives," Rachel says, surprising Sasha; "but mine was anything but."

Sasha's eyes widen. Wait. What?

Rachel turns fully in her seat at her vanity, resting her hands on her knees and looking at Sasha with the kind of expression that makes the standing girl want to disappear. There's a pain in those eyes that Sasha has been able to ignore for nearly eighteen months.

"You got married?" she asks, her voice cracking.

"Almost," Rachel says, her voice barely above a whisper. "There - there was an accident," she explains. Her eyes seem to glaze over. "Nobody died, but I always get the feeling _I_ did, and I wasn't even in the car."

Sasha isn't really sure what she's currently being told, but she knows this is important. Whatever Rachel is telling her now is an integral part of why she's exactly the way she is.

"His name is Finn, and I said yes when he asked," Rachel says. "She - she was always so against it, and I never really understood why, until I just did, I guess."

Sasha's confusion hasn't lessened.

"She asked me not to marry him," she says. "Demanded it, really. Told me there was so much more for me, and I couldn't believe it. Not from her. Not from anyone." She wrings her fingers together. "She told me she wouldn't come to the wedding, and I mistook the ache in my chest for anger, relief, indignation, anything that wasn't what it really was. Disappointment, hurt, desperation.

"She eventually changed her mind, after her entire life was finally falling into place. As if she was finally settled, and she accepted where she was in the world, and _she changed her mind_. She changed her mind, Sasha, and then she almost died, and I still don't know how she's ever forgiven me for it."

Sasha has so many questions; she's practically burning with them.

"I wouldn't get married without having her there," Rachel continues, as if she's not even talking to another person. "I suppose that should have told me more than I was ready for, right? I just - I couldn't go through with it without her there, and I waited and waited, and I put it off and we lost our slot at the courts, and I felt... relieved. _So_ relieved. She didn't show up, and I was so happy.

"And then completely mortified when I figured out why." She stops, blinks, and then goes on. "We saw the car wreck on our way back from the courthouse," she says. "My father was driving, and we saw it. Her car, mangled. They were still trying to get her out, and I - I couldn't even breathe. I made him pull over, and then I was running to her, and - " she stops, shaking on a sob stuck in her throat. "I said things, sometimes I don't even remember what. I told her so many things, just to keep her conscious, and then they got her out and she went away, and, after, she didn't remember any of it."

Sasha has the strongest urge to go to her, all of a sudden. To hug her, maybe. Comfort her in some way. They don't do that. They're not those types of roommates. This is the most Sasha has even learned about Rachel's life before she arrived in New York.

"She was in a wheelchair for a while, and I couldn't bear to see it. I still feel guilty about it, almost two years later. But, she was so gracious about it. She says it's not my fault that she decided to check her phone when I was texting her incessantly." She sucks in a breath, and Sasha does too. "I was still engaged, and I felt as if it was some kind of penance for the role I played in derailing her life. I tried so hard to... fix it. I just wanted to get it right, you know? So, I stayed with Finn and I did everything I could to make it to New York.

"And then she did this thing and bought us these Metro Passes to visit each other, and it _broke_ me." She shakes her head. "I'm broken, Sasha. That's who you see in front of you. I was going to settle, and it took her getting into an accident for me to see that the world is so much more than I ever thought it could be. It's a sobering realisation, and I held onto it.

'When Finn ended things, saying he was letting me go to be free to live my dreams, it was... freeing, yes, but also suffocating. How could we just... end, when I fought so hard for us? When she almost died because of us? How? How could I ever look her in the eye again, when everything she went through ended up being for nothing?"

And, Sasha thinks she gets it now.

"I sat in that dress for hours as we waited for news at the hospital, and I keep it as a reminder of how close my actions could have robbed this world of her. My fear and my willingness to be... less could have resulted in the greatest loss, and I can't afford to forget that."

There's a long, painful silence that follows, and Sasha knows she's going to have to be the one to break it. Suddenly, she knows with absolute certainty, that she's in Lima, with Rachel, for a very specific reason.

"Rachel," she starts; "Rachel, where is she now?"

"Today? Right now?"

Sasha nods.

"I suspect she's at home," she says. "It _is_ Winter Break."

Sasha blinks. "When was the last time you saw her?"

"The day I boarded the train to New York," she answers, almost automatically. "I haven't - I haven't been able to - "

"Rachel," she breathes.

"After a while, she just stopped trying, and it's for the best."

"Do you really believe that?"

Rachel hesitates. "It has to be."

"You're still torn up about it," she points out. "God, it's changed everything about you, hasn't it?"

Rachel doesn't say anything.

"Does she even know any of this?" Sasha asks. "Better yet, don't you think she deserves to know?"

Rachel blinks. "Know what?"

"That you're in love with her."

Rachel sucks in a sharp breath. "Sasha," she whispers. "That's not - I'm not - "

"It is, and you are," Sasha insists, as if she's just hit the nail on the head. It all makes so much sense. "Can't you see? None of this would even matter if you weren't." She steps forward. "Deep down, you know it, and you're never going to be able to move on from this - to become unbroken - unless you face it. Call it what it is, Rachel."

Rachel's jaw tightens, and she shakes her head. "Sasha," she breathes. "This isn't - I haven't even - "

"Where is she?" Sasha asks.

"At her house."

"Why do you know that?"

"What?"

"Why do you know where she is?"

"I just do," Rachel says, exasperated.

"How?"

"She has terrible privacy settings," Rachel finally says. "Okay? I made a dummy account, and I follow her, okay? I'm pathetic, and, yeah, you're right, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"Not really."

Rachel glares at her, and it's the most emotion Sasha has ever seen on her when she's not performing. She loves it. _This_ is the Rachel Berry she expected to meet the day she walked into their shared dorm room, and she's been waiting for her ever since.

It's not to say Rachel is a bad roommate. She's actually the best roommate Sasha could ever ask for. She mainly sticks to herself, is worryingly tidy and doesn't make any unnecessary noise. Sometimes, Sasha hears her singing to herself, but that's all. She's focused and determined and she's been hiding so much of herself, because she still feels guilty.

"You have to tell her," Sasha suddenly says. "You have to, Rachel."

"Tell her what exactly?" she asks, almost scoffing. "There is _no way_ I could ever tell her that - " she stops suddenly. "Sasha, you're wrong. I'm not - "

Sasha takes another step forward. "You really are, aren't you?" she asks, and her voice is little more than a whisper now. "You actually really are in love with her."

Rachel looks away, and it's as if she's fighting tears.

Sasha moves to kneel in front of her. "Listen to me," she says. "Forget dinner, okay? We're not going to the restaurant. We're going to see this girl."

Rachel immediately recoils. "What? No! We can't!"

"We can, and we are," Sasha says. "Come on," she adds, getting to her feet again and attempting to pull Rachel to her own.

Rachel stays put, resisting. "We are _not_ going anywhere," she says. "I can't - we can't - I haven't seen or talked to her in almost two years, Sasha. She probably hates me or something."

"Maybe," Sasha concedes, just about managing to pull Rachel to her feet. "But, you don't know, and you won't know until you talk to her and try to resolve this. Do you think she would want you to be feeling all of this after all this time? Do you think _she_ does? Or even this Finn person? Do you think they've held onto all of this as much as you have?"

Rachel already knows all the answers to Sasha's questions, and the taller brunette knows it, too.

"I assume you know where she lives?"

Rachel shakes her head.

"Liar," Sasha says. "Come on, or we're both going to regret your not going through with this. I don't know how I'm just supposed to let us both go on with our lives as normal when you've just now revealed this _thing_ about you. I won't be able to handle knowing, Rachel. I'm already anxious about it, and you haven't even agreed yet. Do you want that for me?"

"You play dirty."

"I'm right, and you know it," she says. "You need this, and I'm assigning myself the task of helping you with it." She dramatically puffs out her chest. "This is why I'm here. The Universe has aligned to get me here, so I can help you with this."

"I think the Universe has better things to do than worry about my lack of love-life," Rachel mutters.

"Maybe," Sasha allows. "But, it's probably worried about your _life_. It's probably exhausted having to be the only one, because, seriously, why aren't _you_?"

"I'm fine," Rachel insists.

"Are you?"

Rachel presses her lips together, remaining silent, which is answer enough.

Sasha tugs on her hands. "Come on," she says. "What do you really have to lose?" she asks.

Rachel opens her mouth to list all the things she can think of, but Sasha covers her mouth with her hand.

"I don't care," Sasha says. "We're going. Get your coat."

* * *

It takes another fifteen minutes of convincing - and a licked hand: _that's disgusting, Rachel_ \- but Sasha eventually gets Rachel into the car, and then another ten minutes to get her to dish out Quinn's address. Sasha starts to think it's the wrong one when they arrive at a massive house, decked with Christmas lights and two rather fancy cars parked in the driveway.

"Whoa," Sasha says, whistling in appreciation. "Tell me again why we're not actively trying to marry into this family."

Rachel says nothing as she stares wide-eyed at the house she hasn't entered since before Quinn resumed walking. She's driven past it, sure, during her Breaks, unable to stop herself from wondering about Quinn and her whereabouts and her doings.

But, now, she's right here, and Sasha won't let her just leave.

She's proven correct when Sasha practically drags her out of the car and up the walkway towards the front door. Her heart rate starts to increase rapidly, and she's tempted to flee.

Sasha doesn't let her.

When the two of them arrive on the front steps, Rachel doesn't even feel as if she's in her own body anymore. Sasha wastes no time in ringing the doorbell, and that prompts Rachel's sudden panic.

She can't do this.

Oh, God, she really, _really_ can't do this.

"I can't do this," Rachel suddenly says, and then practically dives into the bushes beside the steps, just as the door opens, and Sasha is left standing there on her own, caught.

"Uh, hello," a voice says and Sasha snaps to attention.

Frankly, Sasha isn't sure what she was expecting, but the person standing in front of her leaves her floored. There's a girl around her age standing in front of her, glasses on her face and a woollen hat over her hair. "Are you Quinn?" she asks, suddenly already knowing the answer to her question.

The girl, blonde and hazel-eyed, shifts in position. Her brow furrows, looking a little wary. "Who's asking?"

Sasha smiles; she can't help it. "Wow," she says; "you're a lot more pretty than I thought you would be."

Quinn's eyebrows rise in surprise, her grip on the door handle tightening. "I'm sorry, but who are you?"

"Sasha," she says.

"Okay...?"

"This is weird, isn't it?"

"Very."

"I didn't know you existed until like an hour ago," Sasha says. "But I can already see why she'd be so torn up over you."

A strange, almost strangled sound comes from the bushes, and Quinn's head turns, but Sasha is already speaking again, succeeding in distracting her.

"I like your sweater, by the way," she says, and Quinn looks utterly bewildered. "The glasses, too. The whole look, it totally works for you."

"Sasha, right?"

"Uh huh."

"What are you doing here?" Quinn asks. "I mean, I'm pretty sure I've never met you in my life, so I have no idea what you could even want with me or how you even know who I am."

Sasha steels herself. "Rachel sent me," she says, forcing out the words.

Something happens to Quinn's face. It goes through a myriad of expressions - confusion, anxiety, longing, understanding, determination - before settling on something cold and hard.

Well.

"Rachel Berry?" Quinn asks, her voice steady.

"That's the one."

Quinn's grip tightens on the door's handle just that bit more, but she says nothing. It's probably for the best, Sasha decides, because she could just shut the door in Sasha's face if she wanted to.

"She's my roommate," Sasha says, trying not to reveal how uncertain she suddenly feels. Oh, God, maybe this was a bad idea. "We're, uh, in Lima for the holidays," she continues. "My family is kind of scattered at the moment, and she invited me to come back with her when she found out I was going to be alone in New York."

Quinn holds her expression steady for a moment, and then she sighs. Deflates, really. "Well, her kindness is something she's always been known for," she says, her tone a mixture between fondness and detachment. "I still don't understand what any of that has to do with me, though. And, why would Rachel send you? If she had something to say, the Rachel I know would just come out and say it."

Sasha almost laughs, because, hey, there's a joke just waiting in there. "I thought that too," Sasha says, frowning slightly. "Turns out she's more nervous than I thought."

"What are you talking about?"

"She's sorry," Sasha blurts, and Quinn flinches at the volume. "Sorry. Um. _I'm_ sorry, but she's sorry, too, about the whole ghosting you thing. It was a dick move, but she has her reasons, and, uh, she wants to tell them to you."

Quinn looks suitably bewildered, and Sasha can't help finding the expression utterly adorable. This girl and Rachel would be absolutely perfect for each other. Complementary.

"I don't - " Quinn starts, and then stops. "Look, Sasha, you seem like a lovely girl, and I'm sure you and Rachel are the best of roommates, but I don't really have time for whatever Rachel suddenly wants to say to me."

Sasha would believe her if she didn't sound so sad. "Quinn," she breathes, suddenly sure that Rachel's hiding away is the best thing right now.

"She has my number, you know," Quinn says. "And my email. My address, too. I'm only two hours from New York for most of the year, so I don't understand why she would pick now, when I'm home, spending time with my family and friends to, what, apologise, for leaving me in the dark when I made sure to let her know that I wanted us to stay in each other's lives?"

And, okay, Sasha is coming to realise that Quinn is actually more hurt by this than either she or Rachel ever thought. She's scrambling for some kind of explanation when another voice sounds, from inside the house.

"Quinn?"

Though she won't admit it, Sasha startles at the voice, and Quinn turns her head, a smile spreading across her face, as another girl moves into view. She's tall, with brown hair and green, intelligent eyes that could be shaped like hearts with the way she's looking at Quinn.

"Hey," Quinn says. "Everything okay?"

"I should be asking you that," the girl says. "You've been gone a while. Who's this?"

Quinn blinks. "Oh, this is Sasha," she says. "Sasha, this is Alex."

Sasha feels her stomach bottom out when she sees Alex's left arm wrap around Quinn's waist, even as she holds out her right hand for Sasha to shake.

"Hi," Alex says, her smile wide. "Are you coming in?"

Sasha's eyes widen. "Oh, uh, no," she says. "Just wanted to talk to Quinn for a moment."

Alex looks at Quinn. "Oh?"

Quinn blinks. "She's from New York," she says. "We just met."

Alex looks even more confused. "Okay...?"

"She's Rachel's roommate," Quinn explains.

Alex's entire demeanour shifts all of a sudden, and her grip on Quinn's waist tightens. "Is that so?"

Quinn rolls her eyes. "Apparently, Rachel wants to talk to me."

"_Apparently_," Alex scoffs.

Quinn wraps her own arm around Alex's shoulders and presses a kiss to the side of her head, which is entirely disarming. Sasha feels it, so she can only imagine how Rachel must be handling all of this, if she can even see what's happening. "Don't worry," Quinn murmurs, speaking to Alex, though Sasha can still hear her. "It's not like she's even here."

"Coward," Alex mutters.

Quinn sighs, deflated. "It's fine, Alex," she says.

"No, it's not," the brunette says, starting to look fired up. "I've spent months watching you try to contact her, heard you cry yourself to sleep at night over this, and, now, what? What is this?" She looks at Sasha, her eyes accusing. "What are you doing here?" she asks, sharp. "She's moved on, you know? She's over - "

"Alex," Quinn interrupts. "Stop, okay?" She sighs. "Sorry, Sasha," she says, looking at the girl standing at the door. "Alex is under the impression Rachel and I were... _something_, but we weren't ever anything, at all, if the way she just disappeared is any indication. I'm pretty sure she doesn't even know I'm gay."

It's a good thing Sasha makes the sound she makes - it's a cross between a cough and some kind of gasp - because it masks the groan/whimper that emerges from the bushes to the left, where Sasha is suddenly sure Rachel is dying.

"Like hell she doesn't know," Alex says. "You're kind of obvious, babe."

Quinn scoffs. "I am not," she immediately defends.

"You are," Alex counters. "Jess picked up on it in seconds. You're really not as subtle as you think, though I guess I should be satisfied you were checking out my girl."

Quinn shakes her head. "Yeah, well, your girl is somewhere in there, so you can go back there and stop embarrassing me."

"It's my job."

"It's really not."

Alex glares a little at Quinn, and then a lot at Sasha. "Listen, Sasha, if you're here to deliver some kind of message from your roommate, then here's one from one roommate to another: Rachel needs to woman up and just come out and say whatever she needs to say to Quinn's face, because, God, this entire thing has been fucking painful."

Quinn shoves her slightly. "Go," she says.

"I'm serious," Alex says. "Listening to this one pine over a girl who wants nothing to do with her is torture for all parties involved, so I'd really appreciate it if everything could just get sorted out." She looks at Quinn. "You need the closure."

Quinn remains silent, resolute.

Alex sighs. "Fine," she says. "I'll leave you to it. Sasha, it was... interesting to meet you. Happy holidays." And then she disappears from the doorway, leaving Quinn and Sasha - and Rachel - alone again.

"Sorry about that," Quinn says, looking a little flushed. "She's a passionate human being, and she and her girlfriend, Jess, seem to have taken it upon themselves to... teach me their ways."

"Their ways?"

"How to be a fully-functioning openly-gay woman in the twenty-first century," she says, almost parroting words not her own. "I've, apparently, spent too many years repressing it all."

Sasha blinks. "You like girls," she states, almost in disbelief. "You like Rachel."

Quinn presses her lips together. "She's never known," she says, as if it's no longer a secret she intends to keep. "I wasn't really able to tell her anything, when I didn't really get it myself." She laughs, humourless. "It took her agreeing to marry someone else for something to slap me upside the head, and then... I guess I was too late." She shakes her head. "Not that it even matters, I guess. The second she left, she forgot all about me.

"You know, I thought it would end up the other way around, really. I didn't think Rachel would be the one to leave me in the dust, but I guess it's what I deserve. I wasn't very nice to her, and it was stupid to think she would even want to keep up any kind of friendship when she no longer had to."

Sasha opens her mouth to argue, the words threatening to burst out of her, but Quinn just keeps speaking.

"Look, I'm sorry you've been dragged into all of this," she says, and she sounds tired all of a sudden. "I don't really know what Rachel wanted to get out of this, but, yeah, Alex is right about at least one part: I've moved on and, really, this is all the closure I need."

"Qui - "

"It's okay," Quinn says. "Just, tell her it's fine, and I'm fine, and it's okay. I'm okay, and I hope she is too." She smiles this sad, little smile, and Sasha wants to say something to stop this. "It was nice meeting you, though. If ever you're in New Haven, make sure to hit me up. Merry Christmas." And then she closes the door.

Sasha stands, frozen, the door mocking her.

Wow.

Okay.

She turns her head when she hears a rustle, and Rachel moves into view, looking ashen. "Well, that could have gone better," she says, which is very much not appreciated by the shorter brunette, if her facial expression is anything to go by. She winces. "Sorry."

Rachel blinks. "That was awful," she says. "That was worse than awful, Sasha. Did - did you hear that? God, did you _see_ that?"

Sasha doesn't point out that she was the one standing right in front of Quinn, which she thinks is very mature of her.

"She hates me," Rachel says, sounding horrified. "She actually hates me."

Sasha doesn't think that at all, but Rachel doesn't even appear to be paying attention to her.

"She wants nothing to do with me," Rachel says. "It's over. I've ruined it all. She'll never forgive me. We're never going - "

"Rachel," Sasha suddenly says, cutting her off. "I don't know if you were paying attention to what I was seeing, but it's kind of obvious she's in love with you, too."

Rachel shakes her head, adamant, and then starts to walk away.

She needs to get as far away from this place as she possibly can.

Sasha lets out a groan, and then moves to follow.

But, then, Rachel suddenly stops, turns back around and storms up to the door, ringing the doorbell and impatiently patting her foot.

The door opens a few seconds later, Quinn already saying, "Sasha, seriously, this is - " but she stops quite abruptly when she sees Rachel standing there instead. "Oh."

Rachel sucks in a breath, overwhelmed by the sight of her. She's managed to get more beautiful in the time Rachel hasn't seen her, and Rachel has to stop herself from reaching out to touch.

Quinn just stares at her.

Rachel finally opens her mouth and ends up saying, "I'm a coward."

Sasha nods from somewhere behind her.

Quinn still says nothing.

Rachel continues, her tone sombre. "I'm a coward, Quinn, and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I ever hurt you. I just - I've never really been able to get over the accident and its aftermath and what it all meant for me and you and us and our future, and I don't know how you could ever forgive me, and it was torture letting you go, but I thought it was for the best, but I was wrong, and I'm sorry. God, I'm so sorry."

Quinn blinks repeatedly. "Rachel?"

Rachel takes an involuntary step forward. "I still have my wedding dress," she says. "I keep it to remember how close I was to losing you for forever, and I - I - _Quinn_." Rachel shakes her head, trying to gather her wits. She's failing.

"I'm sorry," she says again. "And, I know you said you've moved on, and I know I should be happy for you, but I - " she stops, sighs, and then quite inexplicably says, "I love you."

Quinn practically stumbles backwards at the admission.

Rachel decides to run with it. There's really no going back now. "I'm in love with you," she says, and, oh God, she's actually going through with this. "I didn't tell you before, because I didn't think I deserved to, or that anything would ever come of it, and I told myself you were better off without me, because I'm the reason you almost died, but I've been miserable ever since, and - and I'm sorry I've put us both through this."

There's so much more she knows she needs to say, but Quinn is suddenly looking at her with an expression she doesn't recognise, and it makes her heart practically leap into her throat.

"You're a fucking idiot," Quinn suddenly says.

Rachel feels the sides of her mouth twitch. "Apparently, I am, yeah."

Quinn shakes her head, sighs, and then says, "I can't really do this with you right now."

Rachel's face falls slightly.

"It's Christmas Eve," Quinn says. "I have a house full of people, and I don't - I can't - " she stops, huffing out a breath. "Look, just, not tonight, okay?"

Rachel blinks, and then nods.

"My number hasn't changed," Quinn says, looking a bit torn. "Text me or something, and then we can talk."

"O-okay," Rachel says. "Definitely, yeah, okay."

Quinn still looks caught between something or the other, and she visibly shakes her head, as if trying to clear it. "Not tonight," she repeats, as if she's attempting to convince herself.

"Not tonight," Rachel repeats, needing to hear herself say it, as well.

"Okay," Quinn says. Then, smiling ever so slightly, she says, "Happy holidays," and then closes the door.

Rachel just remains standing there, staring at the door as her brain attempts to catch up with what's just happened.

She just talked to Quinn.

Quinn just talked to her.

God.

Did that actually just happen?

It takes Sasha coming up beside her to drag her back to the present, and Rachel lets go of the breath she didn't even realise she was holding.

So.

That... happened.

Whoa.

That totally happened.

"Dude," Sasha says. "That totally went way better than I thought it would."

Rachel shakes her head. "She would have annihilated me if you didn't talk to her first."

Sasha opens her mouth to respond, but she's cut off when the door flies open again, and Quinn comes stumbling out, just barely managing to catch herself before colliding with Rachel, who she clearly wasn't expecting to be still standing there.

"Whoa," Quinn says, her eyes wide. "You're still here?"

Rachel kind of just stares at her.

"We're still here," Sasha says, smiling to herself, because this is honestly the greatest thing she's ever witnessed. Quinn totally came back out because she couldn't handle the thought of Rachel leaving.

Quinn blinks repeatedly, and then says, "You're an idiot," before surprising them all and tugging Rachel into the tightest hug imaginable. "You're a completely oblivious idiot, too, because apparently I'm not subtle at all, and, like, what were you thinking? You can't just disappear on me, Berry. That's - that's not okay, and how dare you do this to us? Do you have any idea what it's been like for me? I've - I've never been able to see _past_ you. Couldn't you tell? You were always right there."

Rachel just holds onto her as tightly as her arms can manage, convinced this is all some kind of dream.

"And, seriously, you need to get rid of that dress," Quinn continues, sounding equal parts exasperated and annoyed. "It's a reminder, sure, but it's an awful one. Our lives changed that day, and I think you'll feel better without it weighing on you. I know I couldn't wait to get rid of that monstrosity you thought would make a decent bridesmaid dress."

Rachel lets out an indignant squeak, and Quinn chuckles softly, breath warm against Rachel's skin.

God.

Quinn Fabray is currently in her arms.

This is the last thing she expected when she woke this morning.

Or, the second last thing, because Quinn continues on to say, "I love you, too," and Rachel's breath catches in her throat. "I'm in love with you, too." Quinn breathes out. "So, you know, please don't disappear again."

Rachel doesn't have time to respond before Quinn is releasing her, awkwardly smoothing her hands over her sweater as she flushes with embarrassment.

Quinn clears her throat, taking a small step back. "Okay?"

Rachel manages a nod. "Okay."

"That's all I wanted to say," Quinn murmurs. "Just, you know, I needed to make sure you knew."

"I heard you, Quinn."

"Good," Quinn says, her gaze meeting Rachel's and holding it. "Great."

"Perfect."

"Wonderful."

"Awesome."

Quinn lets out this happy little sigh, and Rachel just wants to reach out and touch her again. "I should head back inside," she says, but makes no move to leave.

Sasha secretly hopes they're about to kiss, but it might be too soon. They still have so much to talk about and sift through before they can even dream of starting a healthy romantic relationship.

But, the two of them just continue to stare at each other, and Sasha feels as if she's an unwitting witness to an extremely private moment that could be the start of something great. She would look away if she could manage to.

God, she really hopes she'll get to tell people about this moment at their wedding. She's definitely giving a speech; she doesn't even care what they say.

"I should head back inside," Quinn says again, and then actually takes a step back. "Call me tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," Rachel confirms, nodding her head.

"First thing in the morning," Quinn adds, looking deadly serious.

"As soon as I wake up."

Quinn blinks. "Wait, do you still wake up at the ass crack of dawn?"

Rachel blushes.

"Yes, she does," Sasha answers for the silent brunette.

Quinn glances at her, as if she's just remembered she's standing there. "Right," she says, and then looks at Rachel again. "Please don't call me at like six," she says. "I'm kind of hoping to be still asleep." She sighs. "Although, I'm sure Alex is going to wake us all up long before then. She can be particularly excitable about Christmas morning when she wants to be."

Rachel just nods her head, caught in how unbelievable this all is. "Okay," is all she can really say.

Quinn smiles, entirely too knowingly. "Okay."

Rachel's pretty sure she'll never spend another day miserable, if Quinn continues to smile at her like that.

Like this.

"I should go," Quinn says.

"You should go," Rachel echoes, even though her heart isn't in it.

"Maybe _you_ should go," Quinn says. "Because, you know, I'm the one who lives here and everything."

"Right."

"So, you really should go," Quinn says.

"And then call you first thing tomorrow, but not really first thing."

"Exactly."

Sasha is so tempted just to tell them to kiss each other already, but she thinks that'll ruin the moment. She also thinks it's best they not rush.

But, really, they've both been pining for each other this entire time, so what does it matter? Rushing might do them some good.

In the end, they don't kiss, which is disappointing, but Quinn goes back inside and Rachel leads the way back to the car, Sasha dutifully following.

Because dinner at the restaurant with Rachel's parents was skipped, Sasha takes them past a drive-through, and orders all the worst things imaginable, and then a lame salad for Rachel, who's at least a vegetarian now, which Sasha believes just adds to her misery.

Rachel barely eats, barely knows what to say when her fathers ask her what's up with her, and, when it's time, she barely sleeps. She just clutches at her phone, Quinn's number already pulled up on her screen, and practically waits, suddenly glad Sasha can't see her.

She's been in this position before.

Waiting, trying to encourage herself to end her self-imposed isolation. She cut everyone out, not only Quinn, and she wonders what this moment means for her.

If she somehow manages to get Quinn back in her life, will there be others? Who else does Quinn keep in touch with? Will she have to explain herself to them as well?

Eventually, Rachel manages to fall asleep, but it's troubled. She thinks she dreams, but she doesn't remember anything when her eyes open for the final time and it's just past seven o'clock in the morning.

Rachel panics for a moment, thinking she's missed her chance. But, no, she still has time, which is why she rolls out of bed and gets herself ready to face this day. She doesn't know what to expect from it, but she's ready for anything.

When she's finally dressed, Rachel sits on the edge of her bed, reaches for her phone and manages to dial Quinn's number without losing too much of her thunder.

The call is answered on the fifth ring.

"Quinn's phone, hello," a voice that isn't Quinn says.

Rachel clears her throat, determined not to be thrown too much. "Oh, hello," she says. "May I please speak to Quinn?"

"Hold on." There's a bit of shuffling, and then that same voice is screaming Quinn's name.

Rachel has to wait a full minute until there's another voice on the line, and her heart leaps into her throat when Quinn finally says, "Totally not the ass crack of dawn, huh? I'm impressed."

Rachel can't help her smile. "Hi."

"Hey," Quinn breathes. "Sorry I wasn't with my phone. I just popped downstairs to get some coffee, and Jess decided to answer your call."

"Jess?"

"Alex's girlfriend, my roommate," Quinn explains. "She's probably crazier than her, really."

Rachel's smile widens, just because it can. "How did you sleep?"

Quinn chuckles. "I don't think I did," she confesses. "I think I had myself convinced it was all a dream at some point."

Rachel winces. "Sorry."

Quinn just hums, and Rachel hears her take a sip of what must be her coffee. She lets out a small, satisfied breath, and Rachel is so in love.

So, so in love.

"Merry Christmas, Quinn," Rachel says.

"Merry Christmas, Rachel," Quinn easily returns.

"What are your plans for the day?"

Quinn puffs out a breath. "There aren't really set plans beyond church, food and presents," she explains. "What about you?"

"I want to see you."

Quinn gasps softly. "Today?"

"Every day of the rest of my life," Rachel says before she can stop herself.

"Wow, okay," Quinn says. "That's... intense."

Rachel doesn't apologise. "Perhaps," she agrees; "but it makes it no less true."

"Rachel," Quinn breathes, sounding overwhelmed. "I - I don't think I can get away until the late afternoon." She pauses. "As far as I know for sure, we're having brunch after church, and then probably opening presents. Also, my mom's been hamming on about the mother of all dinners for weeks, and I could probably get away with sneaking away for about an hour if Alex can cover for me." She sighs. "But, I don't - "

"Later tonight?" Rachel offers. "After dinner? After all the festivities?"

"You really want to see me, don't you?"

"Desperately."

"Why?"

"Because I've gone long enough trying to stay away from you," Rachel confesses. "I want nothing more than to be in your presence, Quinn. Every opportunity I can get."

"Jesus."

Rachel smiles to herself, suddenly feeling bold. "I can come to you," she says. "Wherever. Whenever."

Quinn breathes out. "Okay, uh, how does eleven o'clock sound?" she offers, sounding slightly unsure. This is a definite first for her. Sure, she's had some people be aggressive when they pursue her - both men and women - but Rachel is just unassuming and truthful. She's not holding back. No longer hiding.

It's both exhilarating and terrifying.

Rachel's smile widens. "Sounds perfect."

"I'll keep you posted on how the day goes," Quinn says. "If anything changes in our nonexistent plans, I'll let you know."

"Okay."

"Okay."

"Perfect."

Neither of them makes a move to hang up, and Rachel is very content to sit and just listen to her breathe. She's talking to Quinn. It's everything.

"Rachel?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm going to hang up now," she says.

"Okay."

"We can text," she offers quietly. "I'll need someone to keep me awake during Mass."

Rachel lets out a soft laugh. "I don't know if I should be agreeing to be a part of that."

"Don't you want to talk to me?" Quinn asks, far too innocently.

"I think you should know that I would definitely come to Mass with you if it wouldn't be too weird, Quinn," she says.

Quinn breathes out. "I don't know how I'm going to survive this."

"What?"

"You."

Rachel pauses. "I'm unsure how to respond to that."

Quinn starts to respond, but there's the sound of a shout in the background. Quinn says something to someone who's not Rachel, and then she's back. "I have to get going," she says. "I'll call you later."

"Later."

"I really have to go."

Rachel smiles to herself. "I'm not stopping you."

"God."

"He's waiting for you at church, Quinn."

Quinn huffs out a breath. "He's everywhere, Rachel," she points out. "That's kind of the hallmark of God."

"I'm not Christian," Rachel says; "but I actually do know that."

"Like love and magic."

"And disease."

"Romantic."

Rachel laughs. "Don't you have to go?"

"I've missed you."

"I'm sorry."

"We have so much to talk about, don't we?" There's another shout from somewhere, and Quinn sighs. "I really do have to go now."

"Like I said, Quinn; I'm not stopping you."

Quinn growls softly, and then laughs. "Okay, talk to you later, Berry," she says, and then hangs up.

Rachel remains there, just lying on her bed and listening to the silent end of the phone, trying to will herself to get through the day. They don't exactly have anything planned - her fathers are, technically, Jewish, though non-practicing, and Sasha is an atheist - so it's just a normal day at the Berry home.

All they know is they're going to be spending the day together.

Sasha comes to get her eventually, throwing herself onto Rachel's bed beside her. Because, apparently, after last night, personal space has gone out the window, and they've shifted to a different kind of roommate relationship.

"So... did you call?" Sasha asks once she's settled.

Rachel smiles almost automatically at the mere thought of Quinn. "I did, yes," she says. "We talked."

"About anything important?"

"We made plans for that," she says. "Tonight."

Sasha wiggles her eyebrows suggestively. "Tonight, huh?"

Rachel blushes. "We're just going to talk."

"But, you want to kiss her," Sasha teases.

Rachel shakes her head, laughing softly. "What's really mind-blowing is that I might actually get to," she says. "I mean, I _can_, because she might actually want me to." She looks at Sasha, her eyes wide with wonder and disbelief. "Do you have any idea how amazing that is?"

Sasha doesn't, no. All of her crushes have ended up being douchebags or moving halfway across the world at the first sign of long-term commitment. She's currently happily single, enjoying being able to live vicariously through her tiny roommate.

"I've never seen you like this," Sasha comments. "It's nice."

"What is?"

"That you're allowing yourself to feel," she points out. "It suits you."

Rachel narrows her eyes almost playfully. "You know you're going to regret this, right?" she says. "I can be a crazy person sometimes."

"I don't mind."

"You say that now," Rachel almost sings. "But, you should know: I'm never going to leave you alone, now. I'm going to sing all the time. I'm going to bug you to watch musicals with me, and you're going to have to talk me down when I get myself into a spazz about Quinn."

Sasha smiles. "I feel as if I've just met you," she admits.

Rachel sobers slightly. "I'm sorry I've been so… meh," she says.

"Don't be," Sasha assures her. "You were just dealing with things the only way you thought you could and should. But, now that we've established you're an idiot, life can resume."

Rachel flicks her ear. "Only Quinn's allowed to call me an idiot," she says.

"Sure sure," Sasha says unconvincingly. "Whatever."

"Whatever is right."

"Breakfast is almost ready, by the way," Sasha says, rolling into a seated position. "Your fathers asked me to come get you."

Rachel forces herself off the bed and stretches. She's already been awake for a while, but she suddenly feels alive with energy. Today is going to be a productive day, she decides, and it's going to start right now.

Without a word, she marches towards her closet and takes out the garment bag holding the dress she's never been able to discard. The memories attached are painful but enlightening, but she knows Quinn is right.

So is Sasha, though the girl's ego is far too big for Rachel to admit it.

She has to move on.

From the disaster of a wedding.

From the accident and its aftermath.

She _has_ to.

Still, she holds the dress in her hands, staring at the white fabric. "I know I said otherwise, but I did tell her I loved her," she says, quietly and almost inaudibly. Her back stays to Sasha as she talks, offering a semblance of privacy. "While she was trapped in that car, slowly losing consciousness, I told her I was in love with her; that I was waiting for her. I told her how I dreamed of a life with her, far far away from Lima. I just... got impatient and a little lost, and then there she was, and I told her how sorry I was for not figuring it out sooner. And then I told myself there was no way I deserved her. My penance would be spending my life without her... because I did that."

"Rachel," Sasha murmurs, and it's the first time Rachel realises the girl is now standing behind her. "Don't say that."

"It's what I told her, to keep her awake," Rachel says. "She fell unconscious eventually, and, after, when she woke up in the hospital, she remembered none of it, so I took it as a sign."

Sasha sighs. "And now?"

Rachel turns around to look at Sasha, tears in her eyes. "Is it going to freak you out completely if I say you're another sign?"

"That's... heavy," Sasha breathes. "Also, I'm not gay."

Rachel cracks a smile. "I like you, Sasha, but have you _seen_ Quinn?"

Sasha laughs. "She is unfairly attractive, isn't she?"

Rachel rubs a hand over her face. "It's like she isn't even real. Imagine having to go to school with that. Seriously, I don't know how any of us even graduated."

"You have to make her yours, Rachel," Sasha says. "Put the past aside for now. I'm sure the two of you will deal with it when you're ready, but I think you've made the both of you wait long enough for this. It's time. Just, give in."

Rachel has a plan.

Well, she thinks she has a plan. First, she has to get rid of this dress, eat some food, and then try to come up with a romantic way to say '_I know we haven't been in each other's lives for a while and that's all my fault, but I've been secretly in love with you since I can't even remember and would you, perhaps, like to give me another chance, go out with me, maybe, and possibly agree to be my girlfriend_?'

Easy.

By the time dinner rolls around, she still has nothing.

Though, she does have a few exchanged texts with Quinn, who's gushing about their Christmas roast - that was five minutes from burning to a crisp - and the new scarf - _it's red, Rachel!_ \- her mother bought for her.

Rachel seriously loves her, and Sasha keeps laughing at the unmistakably dopey, lovestruck look on her face. Even her fathers are suspicious, though it's obvious they're relieved to see some... life in their daughter. It's something they want to ask about, but they hold their tongues.

Rachel gets more and more antsy the later in the evening it gets, which doesn't go unnoticed. Sasha just smiles knowingly, which allows Rachel's fathers not to worry. If Sasha knows what's happening, then it can't be terrible. Right?

The truth is they don't know Sasha all that well. Rachel didn't spend a lot of time talking about her, but she's nice enough. Quiet, a little reserved, but with bright, curious eyes. A bit of a mixture of the old and new Rachel.

The one that is currently stomping her way around her bedroom and muttering to herself.

LeRoy exchanges a look with his husband, and then looks at Sasha, who is watching the television a little too intently for it to be normal.

"Sasha," LeRoy says, unable to stop himself. "Please tell me you know what's going on with that tiny hurricane upstairs."

Sasha hesitates for a moment, but then she smiles warmly. "I do," she says; "and I think you'll be pleased."

LeRoy blinks. "But, she's okay, right?"

"Probably more than," Sasha replies cryptically. "I'm sure she'll tell you all about it when it's all said and done."

That doesn't really settle anything for the men, and they can only watch as Rachel suddenly appears, dressed up to face the cold and says, "I'm going out. Don't wait up," and then heads out the door without another word or look back.

All three of them exchange looks.

"You're not going with her?" Hiram asks Sasha.

Sasha pulls a face. "I offered," she says; "but I think it's in everyone's best interest she goes alone." She shakes her head when Hiram makes to ask another question. "And that's really all I'm going to say about it."

Hiram pouts but nods, his eyes drifting towards the spot where Rachel last stood, not knowing if she needs luck, but sending it anyway.

* * *

Rachel definitely needs it.

She's actually shaking as she drives, wondering how sad it would be if she ended up getting in an accident on her way to this all-important date with Quinn. It would be the worst, really, and she has to force herself to stop thinking about it.

Quinn is waiting for her to arrive, so she has to make sure she does.

Quinn actually _is_ waiting for her, sitting on the front steps of her house, wrapped up in a thick coat. She's got a woollen hat on again, her glasses in place, and Rachel almost hits the curb when she pulls up, so distracted is she by the sight of this girl who's claimed her for longer than either of them even knows.

Quinn gets to her feet once Rachel's come to a stop and heads towards the car immediately. Rachel thinks it's wishful thinking, but she's pretty sure Quinn actually skips.

Maybe.

Rachel probably would have.

Quinn doesn't bother to ask as she opens the passenger's door and climbs inside, immediately turning up the heat as she fights off a shiver.

Rachel just stares, once again hit by the very real truth Quinn Fabray is right in front of her, looking as gorgeous and adorable as ever.

"Hi," Quinn says, rubbing her gloved hands together. "Fuck, it's cold."

Rachel can't stop her smile. "Nobody told you to wait outside."

Quinn shoots her a look. "Actually, Alex did," she says. "Told me I was driving her up the wall with my nervous energy, so she sent me outside."

"Nervous energy, huh?"

Quinn smiles softly. "I've been waiting for this for a long time, Rachel Berry," she confesses quietly. "I didn't want to wait a moment more."

And, frankly, Rachel just can't resist.

It's an impossibility at this point.

She leans over, closing the distance between them, and presses her lips to Quinn's, eliciting a surprised squeak from the blonde. Panicking, she starts to pull away, thinking she's jumped the gun on this one, but Quinn follows her, and now they're kissing.

They're kissing.

She's kissing Quinn Fabray, who is kissing her back.

Wow, okay, those are definitely fireworks.

Quinn's hand slides over her shoulder and her fingers rest on her neck, drawing her closer. Rachel wants nothing more than to crawl across the centre console and settle in Quinn's lap, but she forces her kiss to slow, knowing they still have a lot to talk about.

Quinn keeps her eyes closed when Rachel pulls away. "Damn," she murmurs. "I owe Jess twenty bucks."

Rachel blinks. "Why?"

"She bet me we couldn't go five minutes without kissing, and she's right."

Rachel chuckles softly. "I think Jess would get along with Sasha rather well," she says. "Though, Sasha said ten, so she's way off." Her smile is innocent. "Sorry. I just couldn't resist."

Quinn kisses her again, soft and lingering, and she looks a little dazed when she pulls away. "We should, um - " she starts, and then stops. "Well, I don't actually want to go to any specific place, but I don't want to stay in front of my house, you know?"

Rachel nods. "Got it," she says, shifting the car into gear. She drives a few metres until the they're in front of Quinn's neighbour's house, and comes to a stop. "Better?"

Quinn laughs out loud.

For a second, Rachel thinks she's going to tell them to move again, but Quinn surprises her by tugging on her coat and pulling her into a heated kiss. This one is full of lips and teeth and tongues, and Rachel moans without her say-so. She can feel Quinn's mouth spread into a smile, and she's almost indignant about it.

Almost.

"I thought, for sure, you'd at least go around the block," Quinn murmurs against her lips, and Rachel can't stop herself from thinking _less talking, more kissing_ like the horny teenager she's sure she left behind when she reached two decades just a week ago.

"You told me you were tired of waiting," Rachel finds herself saying.

Quinn ends their kiss eventually, and then leans back, her cheeks pink and her lips slightly swollen. "Why did you?" she asks. "Make me wait, I mean."

Rachel sighs, shifting slightly to face Quinn properly. "You almost died," she says.

Quinn furrows her brow, as if she's actually forgotten about the accident that resulted in her being in a wheelchair for a few months.

"And, it's all my fault."

Quinn still looks stumped. "What are you talking about?"

"Your accident, Quinn."

Quinn blinks. "Why would - Rachel, why would my accident be _your_ fault?"

"Because you were rushing to my wedding, and it was me you were texting," she says, her voice catching. "How couldn't it be my fault?"

"But, I thought we already discussed this," Quinn points out, reaching out to cup Rachel's cheek. "I've never blamed you, Rach, and if I'd known you still felt this way, I would have made myself clearer. It wasn't your fault. Not even a little bit."

Rachel leans into her touch, breathing out. "You don't remember, but I was there," she says. "At the accident sight."

Quinn frowns. "What makes you think I don't remember you are there?"

Rachel freezes. "What?"

Quinn seems to sense her unease, because she straightens slightly. "Rachel, why do you think I don't remember you were there?"

Rachel blinks. "You've never said anything," she says.

"To you," Quinn finishes. "You were always so shaken up about it, I guessed you just wanted to forget the entire thing." She breathes out. "I mean, I do, sometimes, as well."

"You remember?"

Quinn nods uncertainly. "I do...?"

"So, this entire time, you've remembered what I said?"

Quinn frowns. "What you said," she echoes. "Rachel, I don't really know what's happening right now. Why are you so fixated on the accident?"

"Because it's the moment I realised how much I love you, and that I would never deserve you," she forces out. "How could I? When I'm the reason - " she stops, choking on her words.

Quinn looks a little horrified. "Rachel, darling, no," she says, reaching for Rachel, holding her face and looking into her eyes. "Please, you have to stop," she says. "Nobody but you has ever felt this way, okay?" she says.

"I didn't want you to resent me," Rachel whispers. "It was easier, and harder, to let you live your life without me."

"God, you're such an idiot," Quinn says. "Like, fuck, Rachel Berry, I don't even know what to say to you right now."

The second the thought _less talking, more kissing_ runs through Rachel's mind, Quinn is doing just that. She closes the gap between them, her lips incessant, as if she's trying to get Rachel to believe that she really is an idiot for putting them through this forced separation when she really didn't have to.

Her reasons make no sense, apparently, and the way Quinn's tongue wraps around hers forces all ridiculous thoughts from her head. Quinn is a great kisser, really, and Rachel can't stop herself from imagining that talented mouth doing other things to various other parts of her body.

"If you don't deserve me, then I don't deserve you," Quinn says quite suddenly.

Rachel opens her mouth to protest, but Quinn is right there, kissing her fiercely, and, _yeah, what was she going to say again_?

Maybe she should just stop thinking altogether.

Except.

"I told you I love you," Rachel says, pulling away to be able to look into Quinn's eyes.

Quinn smiles. "I think it's unlikely I'll forget that," she says. "You said it quite a few times."

"No," Rachel says. "That day, while you were still in the car and I was trying to keep you awake, I told you I love you."

Quinn sits back. "Oh."

"Oh?"

"I thought I imagined that," she whispers.

"What?"

"I was delirious," Quinn says. "I lost a lot of blood. I thought it was all some dream my hopeful brain came up with, Rachel. It was kind of difficult to imagine any of it being real when I woke up and you said nothing about it, so of course I wasn't going to say anything when you were still engaged to Finn."

Rachel closes her eyes. "I'm such an idiot," she says under her breath, but Quinn still hears her.

"Have you really loved me for that long?"

"Longer," Rachel answers unthinkingly.

Quinn smiles, this slow thing spreading across her face. "We've waited a long time for this, haven't we?"

Rachel finds herself nodding, before her breath catches. "Wait," she says. "You hoped I meant it?"

At that, Quinn flushes, looking delightful and just so pretty. "Of course, I did," she eventually says. "What do you think I mean when I say I've waited for this for a long time?"

This time, neither one of them kisses the other. They kind of meet each other halfway, and this kiss is slow, a seal of sorts.

An apology and a promise.

"I love you," Rachel murmurs, and, when she moves to deepen the kiss, Quinn lets her.

Quinn says it back, sounding breathless, and Rachel suddenly knows they're done talking for the night. They'll figure it out as they go along.

Tomorrow.

Later.

Just, not right now, with Quinn's hands holding her waist, coaxing her forward, urging her closer.

Rachel wants nothing more than to give in to what Quinn wants, but they really are sitting in her car in Quinn's neighbourhood, and anyone could find them. She doesn't know if Quinn is ready for something like that.

Quinn must be thinking the same thing, because she pulls away quite abruptly and says, "Come inside."

Rachel blinks, dazed. "What?"

"Come up to my room," Quinn clarifies. "I really want to make out with you, and my bed is a lot more comfortable than your car." She winces. "No offence."

"None taken," Rachel automatically says. Then: "Are you sure?"

Quinn nods.

Rachel hesitates. "What about, um - do your friends really hate me?"

Quinn actually smiles, which is confusing for Rachel. "My friends don't hate you, Rachel," she says. "What makes you think that?"

Rachel drops her gaze, ducking her head slightly. "I heard what Alex said," she says. "I was, uh, kind of hiding in the bushes when you were talking to Sasha."

Quinn takes a moment to decipher what she's just been told, and then bursts into a fit of giggles. "Oh, my God," she says, covering her mouth with her hand. "You're adorable."

"Quinn."

"Alex is really all talk," she says. "If she even has something to say to you, then it definitely won't be tonight," she assures her. "I'll kill her."

Rachel shakes her head. "She seems like quite the character," she observes.

"She is," Quinn says. "We didn't get on at all when we first met, but she still invited me out with her and her friends, and I ended up checking out her girlfriend before I even knew Jess existed, and we've all kind of bonded over the absurdity of the entire thing."

Rachel finds herself staring at Quinn's mouth, deciding she could probably listen to her talk for all of eternity. "Did - did you already know you were, uh - "

"Gay?"

Rachel blushes. "Um, yes."

"There's a lot you can learn about yourself when you go through trauma," she says, careful with bringing up the accident when it's still such a sore subject. "I was almost forced to acknowledge it when I was discharged, sitting at home, and impatiently waiting for you to text me." She shrugs. "I also had a major crush on my physio. Apparently, I have a thing for tiny, pretty brunettes."

It's a lot of information to unpack, and she's unsure what to say beyond, "But, what about Joe?"

Quinn almost rolls her eyes. "I don't know why people thought there was something going on," she says. "We were just friends."

"Were?"

"I haven't seen him since graduation," she says. "The guy doesn't even have _Facebook_, and he was always a little sceptical about the whole... homosexual thing."

"It would probably suck to know his crush ended up liking girls," Rachel points out. "I'm sure Finn would cry knowing his two ex-girlfriends are dating." She freezes as soon as the words are out, blanching.

Quinn seems almost shy as she asks, "Is that what we're doing? Dating?"

Rachel forces herself to maintain eye contact. "I want to," she says, trying to sound as confident as she did when they were speaking on the phone. "I really, really want to."

"How would that even work?" Quinn asks.

"I don't even know," Rachel admits. "All I know is I want, Quinn. I _want_."

"Me?"

Rachel kisses her, frantic and desperate, and maybe they should just stop talking altogether. She grips at Quinn's coat, tugging her closer and having the sudden urge never to let her go.

They do eventually have to breathe, and Quinn pulls away to do just that. "Come inside," she says, her voice barely a whisper. "We can figure out the rest tomorrow."

Rachel nods, her body buzzing. Her heart is pounding, just at the thought of being alone with Quinn. Getting to touch her and kiss her and hold her.

It's almost unbelievable that this is her life.

"Come on," Quinn says. "I think we can walk from here."

"Har har," Rachel deadpans, but dutifully switches off the car, and then follows Quinn towards the house, quietly debating whether she can take hold of Quinn's hand.

They reach the front door before she can make a decision, and Quinn turns to face her, looking a little nervous.

Rachel thinks her expression must mirror Quinn's.

"They're definitely going to tease us," Quinn says. "Try to ignore them, and I promise to get us in and out as painlessly as possible."

Rachel closes her eyes for a beat, trying to gather her wits. She'll face this. She'll face everything Quinn's friends have to throw at her, and she'll take it.

Quinn presses a quick kiss to her lips, and then turns to open the door. She steps inside, waits for Rachel to follow, and then closes the door, locking it. She starts to remove her coat and scarf just as a voice sounds from what Rachel knows is the living room.

"Quinn, is that you?"

Quinn glances at Rachel, rolling her eyes. "Yeah," she calls out, reaching out to help Rachel with her coat.

"Back so soon?" the same voice asks.

"It was cold out there," Quinn says, carefully hanging up their coats.

"Did you kiss?"

Quinn instantly flushes, and she's relieved Rachel is the only one to see her, though her shit-eating grin isn't helping. "I owe you twenty bucks, Jess," she says, loud enough to hear.

"Called it," the voice exclaims. Then: "Get your ass in here. We want to hear all about it."

Quinn bends to unlace her boots. "I'm kind of tired," she says, her voice a little distorted. "I'm just going to head up to bed."

Maybe they hear something in her voice, because everyone goes suspiciously quiet, and Quinn abandons her boots in the corner, wincing slightly.

"Here we go," Quinn murmurs, and then reaches for Rachel's hand, linking their fingers.

Rachel looks down at their hands, smiling softly.

"Ready?" Quinn asks.

Rachel nods. "Definitely."

Quinn tugs on her hand and they move into view of the living room, both of them appearing in the open archway. Even though nobody's talking, the room seems to go even more silent.

"Alex, Jess, this is Rachel," Quinn says. "Rachel, that's Alex, my roommate, and Jess, her girlfriend, who's already graduated. She's has no qualms about reminding us of that fact." She smiles a little tensely. "You remember my mother," she says, waving her free hand at the woman sitting in the corner of the room.

Rachel audibly swallows when she looks at Judy, chastising herself for forgetting that she's also going to have to get back into the good graces of Quinn's mother.

Before anyone can say anything - and they're about to, based on the way Alex and Jess both open their mouths - Quinn holds up a hand, silencing them. "I know," Quinn says. "I know what this all looks like and, yes, we've talked and, yes, we still have a lot more to talk about. Which is what we're going to do right now, so, if you could hold back all your comments for now, that'll be much appreciated."

Her little monologue is met with silence, and she grins a little.

"Okay then," Quinn says. "We'll be going now. Goodnight." She tugs on Rachel's hand again, and the brunette almost trips over herself, flushing in embarrassment.

Which gets worse when Alex calls out, "Keep that door open," and Jess adds, "Use protection."

The fact it's all followed by Judy's voice saying, "_Girls_," in that super-motherly tone makes Rachel want to disappear.

Quinn just calls, "I hate you all," over her shoulder, and that's that.

Rachel is now going up to Quinn's bedroom, having survived that hurdle relatively unscathed.

She's going to Quinn's bedroom.

She's _in_ Quinn's bedroom.

It's not all that different to what Rachel remembers, and she only has a moment to take it in before the door is closing behind her and there's a blonde body pressing her against it.

Rachel waits, her heart beating way too fast, but Quinn makes no further move. Not to touch, and not to kiss.

Still, Rachel waits.

"Are we really doing this?" Quinn asks in a whisper.

Rachel barely hesitates. "I want nothing more," she confesses. "I'll take whatever you're willing to give me, Quinn. I know we have so much to work through, and I'm ready and willing. I want this. Even if we never get passed being friends. I just - I've wasted so much time, and I'm not about to let you go again, so, yeah, we're doing this. Whatever this is."

Quinn takes a deep breath, and then releases it slowly. Then she asks, "Are you done?"

Rachel nods numbly, bravely meeting Quinn's gaze. "For now," she says a moment later. "I'm quite capable of repeating words of affirmation, if that's what you're into."

Quinn looks deathly amused. "That's you, though, isn't it?" she murmurs. "I'm more of a physical touch person these days."

Rachel doesn't necessarily believe her. From what she can remember of their high school days, Quinn would more or less endure physical contact; never really initiate it herself.

Also, the tone of Quinn's voice is unmistakably filthy.

Rachel can feel her everywhere, and she actually shivers when Quinn tucks a lock of brown hair behind her ear, pale fingers brushing against cool skin.

"We're doing this," Quinn says, sounding sure and confident. "I'm not letting you get out of this one, Berry." She rests more of her weight against Rachel. "Also, you should know I don't go around just kissing people I don't intend to call mine."

Rachel's breath catches, and she wouldn't be able to stop her smile if she tried. "Is this the part where I ask if I'm yours?"

Quinn kisses her cheek. "You don't have to ask," she says. "You already know the answer."

"Sometimes, I get the feeling I've always been yours."

"As long as you know."

Rachel smiles, shifting slightly, to get more comfortable with the hard wood of the door behind her back. "As long as I know," she echoes softly, and it's as if Quinn gets impossibly closer.

"I had no idea what I was waiting for," Quinn murmurs, her face pressed into Rachel's neck, breath warm and a little ticklish. "All I know is I was."

Rachel threads her fingers through Quinn's hair, content to remain here for all of eternity. "Was it worth it?" she asks softly.

"What?" Quinn purrs. "Waiting for a girl like you?"

Rachel presses a kiss to her hair, succeeding in tucking her in closer. She's not planning on letting go any time soon. "Yes," she finally answers.

Quinn lifts her head, messing with Rachel's silent plans. Their gazes meet, and it's as if Quinn is making a very important decision about her. Whatever she decides, it must work in Rachel's favour, because Quinn presses a soft kiss to her lips, and then sighs into her skin. "Definitely worth the wait."

* * *

_Fin_


End file.
